Shot Down In Flames
by TwistedGoth
Summary: AU. Some people are just born crazy. Magnus, fresh from a court-appointed stint in the loony bin, has it in mind to cause as much mayhem as possible. By chance, he meets a man who might be as crazy as he is, and they embark on a long-distance journey to find each other's sanity. Then again, sanity might be relative, because he sure hadn't felt crazy until he had met Ludwig. DenGer
1. Hole in the Sky

**A/N **: A new story. Yay.

**Warnings! **: AU. Human characters. Violence, language, mental disorders, weird things/subjects, bipolar!Denmark, MPD!Germany. I always wanted to write one of these and slap my signature on the long wall of multiple-personality-clichés, so here I am. I can have fun and be lame too, you know.

**Pairings **: Denmark x Germany. Other characters featured are Prussia, N. Italy, Finland, plus a few cameos here and there. Other characters that get to be the crazy voices in someone's head are Sweden, Russia, America, and S. Italy. I didn't want to go for a random selection of 'let's just pick these guys and stick them in Germany's head'. I tried to pick characters in whom I can see traits that are shared with Ludwig. It made sense in my head anyway, but I'm probably as crazy as the people I like to write. :D This is meant to be more quirky fun than it is to be taken as a serious study of insanity, cause I've done enough of that, I think. So take most of this with a shaker of salt. That's right, the whole shaker.

This will have 10 chapters. Yeah, I actually thought a story out for once before I started it. You can call the cops now, because I've killed this woman and stolen her identity. :D

As always, thanks for reading, guys. I really do appreciate it.

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**SHOT DOWN IN FLAMES**

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**Chapter 1**

**Hole in the Sky**

The first words he had said to _him _were, "My name's Magnus, and I'm crazy! Nice to meet ya."

Accurate. A bit sudden, perhaps, maybe a little odd to throw out, but accurate all the same.

The whole thing started when he got mad at the gas station.

Not at the person behind the counter, not at the other customers out at the pumps, but at the entire entity itself. He couldn't say exactly that he remembered how it had wronged him, assuming it had at all, but he got mad at it all the same.

Maybe it was because the wind had been howling so fiercely that the banner above the door had started flapping around, and maybe, in some way, it had made a shadow or a sound he hadn't liked. Maybe he had still been seething over being kicked out of his apartment. Maybe it was the fact that he had been sleeping in his car for a month. Maybe it was the fact that he had left Denmark behind for the first time in his life and had been living unsuccessfully in Holland and then Germany for three goddamn years.

Whatever it was, the point was that he got mad at the station, threw the handle of the gas pump down to the ground, and stalked right through the steadily growing puddle of gasoline to go up to the building and kick the door until the glass broke.

He couldn't really say that he understood, either, why the guy behind the cash register got pissed off enough to come barging out and shove him backwards.

Didn't anyone else ever get mad at this place and wanna hurt it, too?

Anyhow, long story short—he punched the guy in the face, some idiot behind had been oblivious to the pool of gasoline and had lit up a cigarette, and the whole store lit up soon after.

As far as he had been concerned, it had all been a case of fair is fair. The gas station pissed him off, and had gotten set on fire for it.

For some reason, the cops that had dragged him into the back of the squad car hadn't been sold on his explanation, and in a few days, he had been passed from cell block to courthouse.

He remembered feeling a little out of place, standing beside his well-dressed, court-appointed lawyer, still very much un-bathed and blond hair dirty with soot from the fire, and he remembered the judge sending him rather foul looks.

Everybody seemed so damn irritated with him.

He didn't get it.

What the hell had he done? Not like he had told the dumbass to strike up his lighter.

The judge blabbered on and on, and Magnus found himself paying more attention to the door in the corner of the courthouse, the one that kept swingin' open and closed with court officers and that was steadily pissing him off.

Goddamn door.

Didn't know it was supposed to sit still until everyone was done talking.

A nudge in his shoulder, and he looked over at his lawyer, who was prodding him.

"Well?"

The judge was watching him expectantly, and Magnus straightened up and asked, loudly, "What was the question?"

His lawyer shook his head and sighed as the judge repeated himself.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Magnus stood there for a second, his cuffed hands idle before him, and then he said, "Nah. Not really."

His lawyer sent him a stern look out of the corner of his eye.

Magnus took the hint, and amended, "Well, I mean, I guess I'm sorry 'bout punching that guy in the face. But he hit me first, so, I guess I'm not that sorry after all."

Maybe it was better when he kept his mouth shut.

He heard another low sigh, and then focused his attention back on the door.

The judge blabbered some more. He didn't really listen until he was being nudged again.

"—three months in the psychiatric ward. You need help. I think all parties can agree this is a better alternative than locking you up, _again_."

Psychiatric ward?

Well, _he _hadn't agreed to that. And why did _he _have to go? What were they gonna do about that fuckin' door? 'Cause it was still opening and closing like nothing was wrong.

The gavel banged, someone was pulling him along, and right when they were crossing the threshold, he looked over his shoulder and cried, loudly, "Why don't you send that fuckin' door to the ward, too, because it doesn't listen, either!"

No one ever had answered him on that one, and before long, he found himself being shoved into a room with a handful of white clothing.

At some point between there and here, his car (or the burnt shell of it anyway) had been sold.

His last possession.

He had stared at the clothes rather foully, because he hadn't ever liked white. He put them on all the same, though, because if he didn't the nurses made it quite clear that he was getting a needle in the arm, and even _he _had enough sense to just lower his head and do what they wanted.

Crazy.

They moved him through a long hallway and then into an elevator, and then into another hallway. He passed a few people, dressed in white like him, wandering around as if in a daze, lurching along clumsily, and Magnus didn't like what he saw.

Lifeless.

Some of them waved at him, placid smiles on their faces.

Drugged to high heaven.

Eventually, he was stopped in front of a door, a card was inserted into the lock, a green light lit up, and he was escorted inside, told to sit still, and then left alone.

The first thing he did, when he settled into his room, was look at himself in the mirror.

Crazy.

Yeah, sure! Crazy handsome, maybe.

He observed himself, as muffled voices came in through the door, and he couldn't understand how he was so different from anyone else.

His hair was messy, yeah, sticking out in odd places no matter how many times he tried to comb it down, but so what? Other people had messy hair. His eyes were blue, darker towards the pupil, but lots of people had blue eyes. He was pretty tall, wide in the shoulders, strongly built. Lots of guys were. His hands were big, veins visible on the backs. He didn't always shave all the way, leaving a little hair on his chin sometimes. Plenty of men did that. His jaw was square and wide, nose straight, cheeks high.

Looked pretty normal, all things considered.

But they said he was crazy.

He didn't have a roommate like some of the others did. He was a danger, apparently. Bars on the window. And it wasn't even glass—some kinda acrylic or something, not easy to break. The mirror wasn't glass, either.

They musta been waiting for him to pitch a fit and start breaking stuff again.

A few hours later, when he had settled in a little, they came back in and handed him that little plastic cup full of pills, and he swallowed them, because they sat there and stared at him and then grabbed his jaw and opened his mouth to double-check.

Dumbasses.

As soon as they left the room, he just went into the bathroom and stuck his finger down his throat.

Everyone walkin' around this place was a fuckin' zombie, and he had little interest in joining them. If he was crazy, then he'd just stay that way, because he would rather be insane than a walking corpse.

The months dragged like fuckin' years.

He didn't understand how some of these people had lived here for _actual _years and hadn't tried to drown themselves in the toilet yet.

He dreamt of freedom, even though he didn't have anywhere to go once he got out. He was gonna raise enough hell to make up for all of this, that was sure. One gas station? Ha! He'd burn six more.

In here, three months felt like sixteen years, and if he hadn't ever thought he was crazy before, then he was pretty goddamn sure he was crazy by the time he got out.

His head was killing him the morning they unlocked the door for good.

His throat hurt.

On the day he finally walked out of the asylum, a chilly Wednesday, he found himself back in the dirty clothes he had been arrested in, and when he crossed the lobby he saw a man at the counter, leaning over and signing papers.

Magnus stopped in his tracks, and stared at him.

Couldn't really say why.

He was beautiful. That was the first thing Magnus had noticed, in all honestly. Pale hair slicked back, platinum in the sunlight, as tall as he was and just as strongly built, strong jaw clenched and shoulders squared, he was hunched over, pen in hand and scribbling away on the forms.

His clothes were very neat, and pretty expensive. Who dressed that nicely to walk inside the loony bin? That had been the second thing Magnus had noticed, his clothes. He wore shined shoes.

The third thing Magnus had noticed was that the man looked _lost_. Like he didn't really belong here, but had somehow found himself here all the same.

Magnus knew that feeling well.

When he was done filling out the forms, the woman at the counter took the papers, said, "Just a moment," and the man stood up straight and took a step back.

He was a little taller than Magnus was, on second thought. His eyes were a paler blue than his own, and he stared down at his feet, brow low and lips pursed and cheeks gleaming with blond stubble.

He hadn't talked to anyone since he had been committed, but Magnus wandered over to that man then, coming to a rest right before him, and tried to catch his gaze.

Seeing the feet maybe too close to his own, the man looked up.

Magnus stuck out his hand.

Didn't know why. Something about that face. Looked so...

"My name's Magnus, and I'm crazy! Nice to meet ya."

...resigned. Sad. As if he had been forced here somehow.

Magnus' voice was rough and raspy, maybe a little guttural—three months of forcing himself to vomit once a day had burned his throat raw.

The man stared at him for a second, and then politely accepted the handshake.

"You checkin' in?" he asked, and the man just nodded.

Poor guy.

The man never had told Magnus his name, and the woman was back suddenly, ushering him forward. As he went, Magnus just called, "Good luck."

He didn't really know why he felt so agitated suddenly. Maybe just knowing that someone else was about to go through what he had.

Later on, when the man was gone, Magnus wandered away, hands in his pockets and shivering in the wind, and only got a few lousy blocks down the street before he realized he didn't really feel like going anywhere after all.

Months, waiting to smell fresh air instead of chemicals and medicine.

Months, waiting to get out, and now suddenly he wanted to go back.

So he did.

He returned to the asylum, and looked around.

The man was long gone.

He couldn't get farther than the lobby, so he went back outside the premises, leaned against the stone wall, and waited. He could have gone off somewhere and gathered the last of his money to buy food or at least find a fountain somewhere to leap into to get some of the dirt off his clothes, but he didn't.

His mind was preoccupied.

Maybe he _was_ crazy, because a normal person might not have found themselves thinking so much about someone they didn't know. He couldn't shake the man from his head, and didn't really try to. Why bother? He had nothing on the outside. Nowhere to go. Nobody waiting for him.

Nothing.

Why not just let his spontaneity lead him where it would and see what happened?

When it was dark, he crept over the gate and walked around the premises, using shadows to his advantage and peering nosily into windows.

He had been on the second floor during his stint, where the security was higher.

He assumed the man, having walked in, was on the first floor.

He was right. Didn't take too long to find him.

A glimpse of blond, as he passed a window, and he poked his head up, caught sight of the man, sitting on the bed with a book, and felt himself being drawn over like a magnet.

He had introduced himself earlier; it would be nice, at the least, to get a name in return.

He crept to the window, put his hand up, and rapped the glass with his knuckles. Real glass, he noted immediately.

The man turned his head this way and that, searching for the noise, and when he saw Magnus outside the window, he fell still, and stared, pale eyes wide beneath his loose hair. By all rights, he probably could have run out of the room and searched for the nearest security guard to come in and beat the hell out of the creep peeping in his window.

Instead, for whatever reason, he stood up, walked over, and grabbed the windowsill.

The pane was lifted up.

This guy must have been low-security, because _his _fuckin' windows had always had bars.

When the glass was up above and the barrier gone, Magnus leaned forward, folded his arms and rested them on the windowsill, poking his head in rather obtrusively. The man just stared down at him, and if he wanted to question this exceedingly odd event, then he thought better of it and stayed silent.

Magnus was glad he didn't ask, 'Who the hell are you and why are you spying on me, you perv?'

Awkward.

Well, so far the man _seemed_ patient. That was always a good thing when it came to Magnus.

Not off to a bad start.

A short silence.

"So," Magnus finally said, when he found his voice, "I just gotta ask! What's a pretty thing like you doin' in a place like this?"

Pretty was an accurate word. Other people might have been too scared to come up to this husky, well-built, virile young man and call him 'pretty', for fear of being punched in the face.

Not him.

The man stood there for a second, staring at him, and then he lifted up his chin in acknowledgment and replied, "What do you think? I'm crazy."

The man's voice was about as low and gruff as his was, although his was surely just natural, not the result of sickness.

He had liked the sound of it right off. Magnus smiled, and rested his chin on his folded arms, peering up at the man with a high brow.

"You sure don't look crazy."

Neither did he, but he had found himself behind that glass once all the same.

"I don't _feel _crazy, either," came the deep, rumbling drawl, "But they tell me I am, so I guess I am."

Magnus scoffed, as pale eyes met his own, and he knew his smile was showing off his teeth.

"Ah! What do they know? They told me _I _was crazy, too, but I think everyone else is crazy, not me. They just can't handle guys as interesting as us, is all."

The man came a little closer, and appeared to warm a bit to his presence. His tense face loosened, and so did his stance. Relieved, perhaps, that someone was agreeing with him.

Crazy people always felt the most comfortable around other crazy people, after all.

"Oh yeah? What did they say was wrong with you?"

"I don't know, something about not having any boundaries or whatever, ah—I think they said it was Intermittent Explosive Disorder, or something. I wasn't really listening in court. What about you?"

The man reached up, smoothed back his silky hair, and said, "Well, apparently there are some other guys living inside my head or something, but I haven't met any of 'em yet so they might just be fuckin' with me."

"Oh, I'm sure," was all he said.

They stared at each other for a while, Magnus still leering up perhaps a bit inappropriately, and the man came closer to the window, resting his hands on either side of Magnus' folded arms.

A face was suddenly very close to his own, and the man's voice got lower.

"Did you hurt somebody?" he asked, and Magnus shrugged a shoulder.

"A little. I've never killed anyone, if _that's _what you're asking. Guess they thought I could, though, if I got mad enough, 'cause I was never allowed to be alone with anyone else in here. You? Ever hurt anyone?"

The man rested his weight on his elbows then, falling down ever lower.

"Not that I can recall. But like I said, I haven't met the other guys."

Right then and there, Magnus was pretty sure he could have fallen in love with that man, in one way or another, and he put his hand in through the window in an offer of freedom.

"If you don't feel crazy, then why don't you come out?"

Hesitation.

The man stood back up straight, and stared at Magnus' hand as if it were rather daunting. Like he was looking at something he wanted but wasn't really allowed to have.

"I can't. I promised somebody I'd stay in here until I got better."

Better.

Better was just a word.

"You think you'll really get any better by stayin' in here? Maybe I am crazy, but I think the only time I got better was when I walked out. I'm tellin' ya, I've been in there. I never got any better. Worst days of my life, sitting in here."

The man shifted, looking so disheartened suddenly, and Magnus raised his hand up higher.

"Well, come on," he goaded, persistently. "You don't look crazy to me, so let's just get the hell out of here. I know you don't wanna stay in here. Hey, sometimes you gotta break promises. Anyway, if they wanted you in this place, then maybe you shouldn't'a been making promises to them in the first place. If you're afraid to go home, that's alright. You can come with _me_, if you want."

The man looked down at him, and seemed a little brighter.

"Oh, yeah? Where're you going?"

"Dunno yet. I don't have anybody, so I was just gonna start walking and see where I wound up."

And, well, that must have sounded pretty good, because the man broke into a smile at last, and gripped the windowsill in his hands as he swung his legs through.

"You want me to come out? Catch me, then, and let's go."

He did.

The window wasn't high up in any sense, but he didn't mind holding arms up and grabbing the man by the waist to lower him down until his feet hit the grass.

Kinda haughty, in his own peculiar way.

"What's your name?" Magnus finally asked, as the man straightened up and brushed himself down quite neatly.

"Ludwig."

"I'm Magnus—"

"And you're crazy. I remember."

Yeah, making a memorable first impression was usually something he was pretty good at.

They looked at each other for a moment, each seeming to size the other up, and Magnus was the one to jerk a thumb over his shoulder and whisper, "Let's go this way."

Ludwig followed him when he started slinking along.

It had been a long time since he had done anything fun, but sneaking that man out of the sanitarium was pretty damn exhilarating.

Climbing the fence was more of a thrill than walking out of the door.

When his feet hit the ground, he reached up, expecting to be chided for not catching Ludwig as he had when he had crawled out the window, but Ludwig just dropped down onto the concrete and pulled himself up quite easily, brushing down his shirt.

Well.

Maybe that haughtiness came and went as much as Magnus' anger did.

"Where did you have in mind?" Ludwig asked, and Magnus shrugged a shoulder.

"Let's just walk."

So they did.

Creeping silently until they were well in the midst of the city streets, and when they were far enough away, Magnus tucked his hands in his pockets and loosened up.

Everything now was just up to chance, because he didn't have anywhere he was supposed to be and Ludwig wasn't staying where he was supposed to be.

Low chatter amongst themselves.

They walked through the dark streets, hands in their pockets and hair whipping in the chilly wind, and Magnus felt better then than he had in years.

Just making small talk with some guy he didn't even know.

Exchanges of pleasantries and a few personal details.

Buildings all around. The streets were lit up by headlights and shop signs, and even though they were supposedly crazy, nobody stopped to question them or even send them strange looks as they walked. Magnus was too loud, maybe, but otherwise he couldn't have ever said for certain that there was anything wrong with either one of them.

Ludwig looked like any other guy as much as he did. Didn't talk that much, maybe, but that was alright.

Magnus spoke enough for both of them.

He was very ready to keep on walking and never look back, but when they reached a certain point, maybe some kind of invisible line, Ludwig paused, and fell to a halt by digging his heels into the ground.

Magnus looked back at him, and Ludwig shook his head.

They hadn't even gone that far. Why was he stopping here?

He had just assumed that Ludwig was really going with him.

"What's the matter?" he finally asked, when Ludwig seemed content to just stare at him, and he could already feel the irritation creeping up.

Maybe he shoulda mentioned to Ludwig that he had a short fuse.

And by short, he really meant no fuse at all.

"I should go back," Ludwig suddenly said. "I gotta tell a friend goodbye before we head off. Anyway, I already committed myself. I should at least get a few days of rest out of it, right? They've got some crazy drugs, or so I hear. Why don't we start out this weekend? So I can at least pretend that I tried keeping my promise."

A burst of anger that was no doubt irrational, but Magnus bit it down, and went when Ludwig started to lead them back to the ward.

Almost pitched a fit for a second there.

Somehow, he got the rage under control, for once, and instead barked, "Forget the drugs. Don't take that shit, whatever ya do. Makes ya dull as hell."

"Is that so?"

He looked at Ludwig, at those cool eyes and that intelligent air and that vibrant step, and couldn't imagine what he would look like if he actually swallowed the stuff they gave him.

Adamantly, and maybe a little too loudly, he said, "You're too interesting to take that stuff. If you do, you'll just turn into a ghost, you know? You're so—well, you seem really nice, and you're really good-lookin', and, damn! I'd hate to see ya turn into one of them. You wouldn't even be able to think anymore. They'd ruin you with that stuff. I think you're great the way you are! Don't let them change anything. It'd be a shame, losin' the way you are."

The idea of drugs got him so riled up.

Three fuckin' months, throwing that stuff up and hoping they never caught on.

Ludwig probably thought he was crazy, alright, and he _was_, but he couldn't stand the thought of someone he suddenly liked burning out, wandering around those halls like the others did.

Somewhere during that speech, something must have set off a trigger in Ludwig's head, because suddenly an arm was thrown around Magnus' shoulders, and when he looked over, Ludwig was smiling at him, nose so close that it touched his own.

Looked a little different, suddenly.

Friendlier. More approachable.

When he opened his mouth and spoke, he sounded different, too.

"You sure do know how to flatter a guy! Jeez, you make it sound like you've already got a thing for me! But I'm still gonna hang out there for a few days all the same. So, buddy, are you gonna wait for me to come with you or are you just gonna take me back and ditch me there and go have all the fun yourself? 'Cause you look a little mad."

Magnus stared at him, at the way Ludwig's brow was high and the smile was lopsided and how bright his face suddenly was, and he was pretty sure that he was meeting one of the 'other guys' that Ludwig had mentioned.

Ludwig's voice was a little higher, and the pronunciation of certain vowels had changed.

Maybe he had stoked Ludwig's ego too much or something.

Dumbly, Magnus said, "I'm not mad. But, hey. You're still Ludwig, aren't you?"

Ludwig's brow crinkled a little, but the smile stood strong.

"Who's that?" he finally asked, a bit curiously. "Don't know _him_. Name's Alfred. You're a weird guy, Magnus."

Look who was talking!

All the same, he felt himself smiling like an idiot, and just let Ludwig, or whoever, keep an arm around his shoulders. Wouldn't complain, that was for sure.

Huh. Ludwig _was _crazy after all.

Wouldn't complain about that, either.

"Well, I like you anyway!"

For once in his life, Magnus found himself rather speechless, as Ludwig kept that arm around his shoulder, fist hanging loose under his collar, and gawked over at him instead.

He couldn't even remember the last time he hadn't been able to think of anything to say.

His enthusiasm for this insane human being he didn't really know magnified tenfold in that instant.

Ludwig just chattered on.

"Anyway, I wish I woulda met you a long time ago. They've been telling me that I'm crazy so long I almost started to believe it, you know? I coulda used you before, to tell me I wasn't."

Ludwig spoke in his ear as they walked back, and Magnus just listened and nodded his head, the dumb smile still plastered on his face.

This guy was much more talkative than Ludwig was, certainly, and a little quirky in his mannerisms.

Kept on running a hand through his own hair.

Well, everyone was quirky, Magnus supposed, in their own way.

'Cept for that damn judge that had sent him out here, maybe.

That arm stayed around his shoulder the entire hour they walked back.

The gate of the ward, once the arch to freedom, suddenly loomed in the distance like a guillotine.

The last place Magnus ever wanted to see again.

All the same, Ludwig (Alfred? Alfonso? Whatever the hell he had said his name was) grabbed the fence in strong hands, and started hauling himself up.

Magnus followed him.

That had been the first time in his life that Magnus had ever intentionally tried to sneak into an asylum, rather than out of it.

They passed without incident, and Magnus considered writing a letter to some public officials about the rather lax security in this place. Even if they didn't house truly dangerous people, still seemed more like tempting disaster.

All the better for him, though.

They went back the way they had come, and with every step, Magnus' heart dropped. The still-open window stood out, and Ludwig leapt for it in a second.

Magnus hung back, feeling a little dejected suddenly.

Back here again.

Ludwig turned around, arms crossed, and said, "Guess I'll see you in a couple of days. Don't forget about me. I'm kinda lookin' forward to going with ya."

He couldn't find his smile, then, even though Ludwig had declared intent to come with him.

A couple of days was too long.

If there was anything he lacked more than restraint, it was patience.

At the last minute, Magnus just sighed and said, drearily, "Remember not to take the pills, whatever you do."

With that, he turned on his heel, and had every intention of sleeping under the nearest bridge until he could come back and get Ludwig out for good.

Didn't make it far.

Voices from behind.

Ludwig stuck his head out of the window suddenly, right when Magnus started walking off, and whispered, "When the hell did we get back here? Hey, where are you going? Wanna spend the night?"

The first voice was back.

Rather, Ludwig was back, and Magnus immediately whirled around and bounded back towards the window.

"Sure!"

Not even a second of hesitation.

Spending a night in the institution was pretty much home, sweet home by now. Not like he had anywhere else to sleep.

Ludwig stuck a hand through the window, Magnus took it, and Ludwig hauled him inside.

He tumbled in, feeling a bit mischievous, and heard a laugh from the side.

When he looked over, he saw another man, sitting in a chair, shaking his head to himself as he held a book.

"This is Timo," Ludwig said, quietly, as Magnus pulled himself to his feet, and the so called Timo glanced up from his book, brow high and the start of a sneer on his face.

"Whoa! Jeez, Ludwig, you've only been here for a day and you're already bringin' guys in through the window. 'Bout time I got an interesting roommate. Good thing I left it open for you, huh? I was about to go to sleep."

Magnus smiled at Timo, who smiled back at him as he stood up, stretching the book over his head.

"Well!" he said, rather slyly, "Guess I'll go find somewhere else to crash for the night. You two look like you wanna get to know each other a little better."

Timo crept to the door, slunk through, and shut it quietly behind him.

That must have been the guy Ludwig had wanted to say goodbye to.

Alone and feeling like he was a little kid suddenly, Magnus threw himself down on the bed, crossed one leg over the other, slung his hands behind his head, and heaved a sigh.

Jittery. Excited.

Ludwig watched him for a moment before sitting himself down carefully on the edge.

For a second there, as Ludwig stared at him, Magnus was pretty sure he saw a flash of confusion cross Ludwig's face; a crinkling of his brow, a pursing of his lips, a slight tilt of his head.

Probably wonderin' how the hell he had gotten back here so damn fast.

Ludwig said he hadn't met any of the 'other guys', so that past hour or so must have just been total blackout. How disconcerting that must have been, to sit up straight and suddenly realize you didn't remember how you got somewhere and why. Where those lost hours went.

He smiled at Ludwig, intending to distract him from that sudden confusion, and said, "Have you ever been in a place like this before?"

Ludwig caught his gaze, and shrugged a shoulder.

"I think I was when I was little, but I hardly remember any of that. Maybe that was just something I dreamed."

"Or maybe they gave you the drugs," he muttered, swinging a restless foot, and Ludwig just raised a shoulder. "Who sent you here this time, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My brother."

"What did you do?"

"I don't remember," Ludwig said, and Magnus believed him.

A silence that was more melancholy than awkward.

It was a little sad, seeing Ludwig attempting to recall a memory only to have nothing come up no matter how hard he tried.

"Well," Ludwig finally said, in an effort to take his mind off of the fog, "It couldn't'a been anything too bad, I guess. I didn't wake up in a police station or naked anywhere."

Magnus burst into laughter that was probably too loud, and Ludwig sent him a reproachful look.

"Tone it down a little, won't you?"

He couldn't help it. He had always been loud. His obnoxious laughter died down into giggles, but it was a little too late.

A knock on the door interrupted them shortly afterwards.

A voice came in through the wood.

"Ludwig? Hope you're decent, I'm comin' in."

Ludwig jolted upright, and Magnus took the adrenaline rush to mean that he should be hiding.

He dove to the floor.

The door started clicking open.

Magnus stuffed himself under the bed, as best he could, and peered out from beneath the bottom of the blanket.

A nurse stood in the doorframe, leaning against it, and looked Ludwig up and down with a smile. Magnus recognized him as the same guy that had always tried to give him his pills. Dark hair and dark eyes, always smiling, a little on the short and stocky side, he had always been civil, even as Magnus had sent him dirty looks. Nice. Too nice, maybe, to be working where he did. The nurse took a sudden scope around the room, long and hard, before reaching up to scratch the dark shadow of stubble on his cheek when he saw nothing, and then he spoke.

"Hey, Ludwig."

"Hi, Feliciano."

"What are you doing in here?"

Not a bad guy.

"Nothing."

"I saw Timo wandering around in the halls, so... Who were you talking to?"

Brown eyes settled on blue, and Magnus could only imagine that Ludwig was smiling too when he said, "I don't remember. Guess you scared him away."

Ha—well, Ludwig said he wasn't crazy, and probably didn't think he was, but he sure could use everyone else's assumptions to his advantage.

Smart.

He liked people like that.

The nurse was still for a second, and then he stood up straight, gave a short laugh, and shook his head.

"Well. I was just checking on you, but you look alright, so. You know. Behave yourself for the night, won't ya? I got a date in the morning and I already look like hell. Cut a guy some slack."

He ran a hand through his messy hair, still smiling, and Ludwig was quick to throw out, in an intentional distraction of the nurse's wandering eyes, "If it doesn't go well, then you can always just have a date with me and Timo. If you work at it."

The nurse laughed, and crossed his arms, letting down his guard.

"Yeah, sure. Who could resist that! Just don't bring any uninvited guests to the party, alright?"

"I'll try."

"Excellent. Get some sleep."

Another smile, and then the door shut.

A sigh from Ludwig.

A short silence, and then Magnus rolled out from under the bed, and when he poked his head out, Ludwig was hanging over the edge, his face right above Magnus', and was staring down at him.

His hair hung loose as he sent Magnus a stern look.

"Is there a volume button on that voice of yours?"

"Not really," he replied, as he lifted his head up and nearly bumped Ludwig's nose with his forehead, but when he crawled back on the bed, he found himself lowering his voice all the same.

Speaking in quiet, hushed tones.

A long time coming.

He felt rather like a schoolgirl in that moment, flopped on his stomach on the bed with his arms crossed beneath his chin, Ludwig sitting in front of him and both of them whispering and turning eyes to the door as they did something they shouldn't have.

He hadn't ever really had a normal childhood. No one had ever spent the night at his house or invited him over to theirs, so lying here with Ludwig was about as close as he was gonna get.

Ludwig put his palms on the bed, rested his weight atop them, and looked down at him.

"Have _you _ever been in a place like this before?"

Magnus shook his head.

"I've been in jail a few times, but never in here. Don't know what I did different this time, though." He shot Ludwig a bright smile, and asked, "Ever been in jail?"

From the wide-eyed look on Ludwig's face, the answer was obviously 'No!'

Straight arrow, maybe. At least _this_ Ludwig was. Maybe the other Ludwigs had gotten into trouble here and there and left no memories of it behind.

"I've never been arrested. I mean, I've been inside jails a couple of times, for my brother. He gets into trouble every chance he gets. Sometimes I think maybe he should be the one in here, not me. I've never even gotten a ticket for anything. Maybe I wasn't the best in school, though."

As Ludwig spoke, Magnus listened intently, at least he did until he suddenly found his eyes drifting up, over and over again, to the wall behind Ludwig.

Agitation.

He tried hard to keep his attention on Ludwig, but for some reason he always found his gaze falling on that same wall.

He raised up a shoulder, rolling it restlessly.

Fuckin' wall.

Kept on staring at him.

Couldn't focus.

"—anyway, I dropped out after that. I got tired of them looking at me like I was crazy."

He sat upright, put his hand on Ludwig's shoulder, and said, snappily, "Hold that thought!"

Ludwig stopped short, looked at him as he slid off the bed, and then he stalked over to the wall, pulled back his fist, and punched it.

His knuckles cracked and pain shot up his wrist, but it was worth it just to put that fuckin' wall in its place.

Show it who was boss around here.

It stopped staring at him afterward, that was for sure.

When he pulled his fist back, Ludwig raised his brow and sent him a strange look.

"What'd you do that for?"

Magnus lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and ignored the ache in his knuckles.

"It was pissin' me off."

And, for some unholy reason, Ludwig smiled.

No one had ever smiled at him after one of his episodes.

Silence, and then a gruff scoff.

"Ah. I never liked that wall much since I got here, anyway."

Suddenly, Magnus found that his fist didn't hurt so much anymore.

Just having Ludwig looking at him without scorn. The first person who had seen him be crazy and still smile.

And suddenly, he wanted to be outside, but only if Ludwig was with him.

If Ludwig stayed, then he'd stay, too.

Crazy.

"Do we have to wait a few days?" Magnus finally asked, no doubt looking as impatient as he felt, and Ludwig stared at him for a second, and then tilted his head. "If we hang around any longer, they'll try to give you those damn pills in the morning! Let's just go tonight! You saw your friend again, and your brother doesn't need to know."

He had always lived in the moment. This was no exception.

Hadn't even known this man for one whole day.

"Well. If you wanna go _that _bad, I guess—"

He didn't let Ludwig finish, too excited to wait any longer, and just cried, "Great!" as he began to pull Ludwig to the window.

"Where are we going?" Ludwig asked, as he had hours before, and this time, Magnus had a better answer.

"Well, they say we're crazy, right? So let's go see if we can find out where we left our sanity at."

Didn't make much sense to a normal person, sure, but they weren't normal, and Ludwig gave a short, brisk laugh, and pulled the pane of glass up again.

"Then! Let's get goin'. 'Cause if we _are _the crazy ones, then I haven't seen _my _sanity in a long time.

They leapt out of the window, scaled the fence, and didn't glance back this time.

Ludwig looked over at him when their feet hit the ground for a second time, and said, "You've always been an instigator, haven't you?"

Magnus just smiled.

"Yup."

The pale light of dawn turned the horizon pink.

Magnus reached out, grabbed Ludwig's hand, yanked him into the street, and they started walking.

They left the asylum behind, and walked through the hole in the sky.


	2. Bus To Nowhere

**A/N **: Thanks for reading, as always. :D

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Bus To Nowhere**

It felt like they had been walking for days.

Actually, it had only been a few hours.

It didn't make any sense, but those hours had felt like years and seconds at the same time.

The morning sun was bright and high, people were crowding the streets to get to work, and Magnus and Ludwig had been walking for hours.

Tired as hell, from lack of sleep, but they still kept on.

Magnus loved every second of it, no matter how many times conversation was interrupted by yawning.

His stomach started bitching a little while later, although Ludwig seemed pretty content, so he scrounged up his money and grabbed coffee and pastries to go. Ludwig humored him and took what he offered, maybe knowing in some way that doing so would make Magnus happy. Finally, they sat down together on the edge of a fountain, coffee on the ground before them, leaned back on their palms, and started to make a plan of action.

Ludwig's hair was almost as messy as his own by now, pale as could be and circles hanging under his eyes, and both of them could probably have used a shave.

Still, they smiled at each other as they conversed.

"Where do you wanna go first?" Magnus asked, as Ludwig swung his feet idly.

Ludwig's home was closer than his own, so looking for Ludwig's sanity came first.

"I don't know," came Ludwig response. "I don't even know where to start. How can you look for something you can't see?"

Good question.

"Well," Magnus began, carefully, "When's the first time they started tellin' ya you were crazy?"

Ludwig, looking around the street as people walked by, gave a 'hm' of thought, and then said, "Probably always, but the first I can remember, I think it was when I was fifteen. I went to school, and then, the next thing I knew, I was back home again, and I couldn't remember how I got there. After that, I started hearing it a lot. Dunno why. I dropped out not long after."

Magnus pursed his lips, and then said, "Well, why don't we go there and see what we find?"

Ludwig snorted.

"Sure, why not?"

Magnus stood up, extended his hand to Ludwig, yanked him to his feet, and they went back into the street.

This time, Ludwig led.

Magnus followed Ludwig along twisting roads to the bus stop. Felt a little like a dog, slobbering on Ludwig's heels as he was, but he found he couldn't really help himself.

Ludwig coulda walked into a fuckin' volcano and Magnus woulda dropped in right behind him.

The small talk they made as they walked was worth any amount of his dignity.

They got to the stop soon after, had to fight against the crowd to get into the bus, and Magnus was glad to sit as close to Ludwig as possible when they successfully broke through the mass.

If there was one thing he had learned in his time here, it was that Germans sure as hell didn't form nice, orderly lines at bus stops.

They survived the free-for-all, and Magnus had to forcibly keep his arm down, because the urge to throw it up on the back of the seat and sling it over Ludwig's shoulder was tempting.

Way tempting.

He didn't go all out that time, because he had only known Ludwig for about fifteen hours, but he did let his hand wander a little.

He had always been a toucher, and Ludwig didn't swat his hand away when he kept reaching out and brushing it down Ludwig's arm. Lowered his eyes in embarrassment and shifted a lot, sure, but didn't slap him.

He'd take what he could get.

Some people just couldn't get used to his physicality.

The bus went on, and the morning had turned into late afternoon by the time they got off again.

Magnus looked around, and realized how far south they had gone. Closer to Austria, now. Ludwig looked around, too, to get his bearings, and started leading Magnus along.

It wasn't long before they found their destination.

He had hated school, always had, so walking back up to one was a little unpleasant, but he trailed behind Ludwig dutifully as they approached the stone schoolhouse.

Students had gone off by now, but teachers remained, no doubt, and it was obvious that it was a teacher that Ludwig had in mind.

He looked around at the building, seemed daunted, and stood still.

"Aren't you gonna go in?" Magnus asked, and Ludwig rolled a restless shoulder before shaking his head.

"No. I think I'd rather just wait until he comes out."

"Who?"

They went to the front of the building and settled up against the wall, and Ludwig eyed the place with an obvious lack of fondness.

A shared sentiment, it seemed.

"My history teacher. He never liked me much, and I never knew why, so he must have known something that I didn't. He always looked at me like I was crazy, anyway. It was in his class, I think, that I don't remember leaving, so maybe he'll tell me something."

Magnus pushed out his lips, stared at his feet, and stayed silent.

Wind blew.

Ludwig waited outside the door, and Magnus watched the minutes tick by into an hour.

Finally, weary teachers started filing out, done with their day's work.

Ludwig popped up on his toes, and quickly honed in on one of them.

Magnus followed him at a distance, and watched when Ludwig came up to a man, and cried, "Mr. Zwingli! Hey, wait!"

The man, a rather severe looking specimen of a teacher, stopped and turned his head for the source of the voice.

Ludwig stopped, the teacher saw him, and Magnus waited. A long stare, and then the man seemed to recognize Ludwig.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Beilschmidt?"

Ludwig seemed encouraged that he was remembered.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, I just wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"I know— Well, before I left, was I...acting strange, or anything? Can you remember anything odd about me? Like, did I do or, or say anything weird?"

Silence.

The hesitation seemed long and awkward, and Magnus could see the man shifting his weight, as if contemplating how to handle this situation.

Wondering, perhaps, if this question was one he should really be answering or not.

To lie or not to lie.

The man, face still so stern, finally said, "I think it would be better of you to ask your classmates, Mr. Beilschmidt. Although you're no longer my student, I have to say that this conversation seems extremely inappropriate. Unless you're enrolled here, you shouldn't be on campus."

Magnus pursed his lips and tried to keep a handle on his irritation.

What a jerk. Ludwig had only wanted to ask a damn question. Could have at least let him down easy.

Ludwig's shoulders slumped a little, his brow crinkled in either hurt or embarrassment, and he was quick to backtrack.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm—sorry."

With that, Ludwig turned around and walked away, and Magnus could see the paleness of mortification on his face.

Magnus trotted behind him to catch up, and at the last second, his agitation got the better of him and he called over his shoulder, "Didn't have to be a dick about it!"

The teacher looked back, too, mouth hanging open in disbelief, and Magnus lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes in distaste. Didn't get to see much else, though, because Ludwig had suddenly thrown an arm around his neck and started hauling him away forcibly, nearly strangling him in the process.

Damn.

Ludwig had a vice grip.

When they were back out on the sidewalk, Ludwig released his neck, Magnus could breathe again, and they shared a look.

Now what?

Ludwig looked around a little, looking so helpless, and Magnus rubbed at the back of his neck in restlessness.

Disappointment. Kinda sucked, seeing Ludwig look so disheartened.

He tried to perk him up and leaned forward, prodding Ludwig from behind with a gentle fist.

"Well!" he said, in an effort to make Ludwig smile. "This wasn't the only school you went to, was it? I know you're not givin' up that easy. Let's go back further."

So they did.

They walked some more, and before long they were in front of a smaller school.

This time, Ludwig took a more direct approach, went into the front office and procured a slip of permission, and went into the building.

The tiled halls were a strange sight, and it was hard for Magnus to not feel like he was six years old again.

Lockers and sloppy drawings hung up on the walls.

Bright colors.

Ludwig turned his head towards each door, read the name, and carried on. Before he could see a name he recognized, however, he found the person instead.

A woman, blonde hair tied up into a bun above her head, walked quickly down the hall beyond them, and Ludwig chased after her.

"Hey!"

She stopped, and looked over her shoulder, brow high in curiosity.

Ludwig rushed forward, and stopped in front of the woman.

"Hey! Ms. Kirkland! Hey, do you remember me?"

A long look of scrutiny, and then a bright smile.

"Sure I do, Ludwig. How have you been? My goodness, you've turned into a handsome young man, haven't you? I can't believe how tall you are!"

Ludwig smiled, a bit awkwardly, and shuffled his feet, but seemed pleased at the friendlier greeting.

The woman's face was as bright as her smile as she looked Ludwig up and down.

"Gosh! I just can't believe it. What brings you back here Ludwig? Have you been alright? I bet you're doing great. You were always so smart."

A tinge of red on Ludwig's cheeks, and he finally spoke.

"Say, I just wanted to ask... Well, do you remember when I was in class? That is, do you remember anything...strange? About me?"

Her smile foundered a little, and she was the one now who shuffled her feet, turning her eyes back and forth between Ludwig and Magnus.

"Well. Strange. How do you mean, Ludwig? Everybody's a little strange, right?"

Ludwig just stared at her, and she folded a little.

"Well, it's not—! Your brother always said it was better just to ignore it. It's not that big a deal, Ludwig. Just, sometimes, when you were in class, sometimes you just talked a little funny. You looked confused sometimes, like you couldn't remember how you got there. They took you out of my class for a month to take you to the hospital. Don't you remember any of that?"

A strange falling of Ludwig's face, and the answer was obviously, 'No.'

When Ludwig shook his head, the woman reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Well! Like I said, everyone's a little strange. Anyway," she added, brightly, "It just gives you character, is all! Why would ya wanna be like all those other boring guys, huh?"

Ludwig's smile came back up, and Magnus was smiling, too.

Kinda liked this broad.

"Did you ever know what I was in the hospital for?"

"I'm afraid not, Ludwig. Your brother wouldn't tell me that much."

She peered up at tall Ludwig, and seemed very content to leave her hand on his shoulder.

"What makes you ask, though, if you don't mind me wondering?"

Ludwig just said, "My brother's just been worrying a lot lately."

She gave a 'hm', and said, "Well. You look like you're doing just fine, so maybe he shouldn't be. Besides, even though you were a little odd, you never wanted to hurt anyone, and I think that's the most important thing. One of the other kids hit you once, don't know if you remember or not, and I always remembered that you didn't hit him back. You were a sweetie. Looks like you still are!"

Ludwig ducked his head a little, and Magnus could see in his twisted smile that he was embarrassed.

In a good way.

Shifting his weight and looking somehow pleased and humiliated at the same time, Ludwig just said, "Well, thanks for talkin' to me. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Ludwig. Anything I can do to help. Being a teacher doesn't just last 'til the kids are out your classroom, that's what I believe."

"Thanks."

They turned, and meant to leave.

Didn't make it far.

As they went, she called after them, "Say, Ludwig! You're all grown up and not my student anymore, and I'm still 'miss'!"

Ludwig's face went so red that Magnus was surprised he didn't catch fire, and he looked over his shoulder, eyes wide and eyebrows nearly up into his hair, and he stammered back, "Oh! Erhm—I'll keep that in mind! Thanks, Ms. Kirkland."

"Call me Alice."

Magnus was pretty sure that Ludwig had actually swallowed.

She smiled, Ludwig said 'goodbye' and whipped back around to speed towards the door, and the very second that he was outside, he burst into mortified giggles.

Magnus sent him a leer, and was quick to add a little insult to injury.

"I can see it already," he crooned. "Mr. Ludwig Kirkland. She's definitely the man."

Ludwig muttered something foul under his breath, sent Magnus a glare, but kept smiling all the same.

After the last let down, it was good to see Ludwig smiling.

Magnus lifted his chin, thoughtfully, and said, "I bet Alfred woulda liked her."

"Who's that?" Ludwig asked.

Magnus waved a hand, and just said, "This weird guy I know."

Ludwig sighed, shook his head, and walked on.

The schools didn't get them much else after that. Just more things that Ludwig couldn't remember.

Back to nowhere, then.

Ludwig's sanity wasn't in the school.

"Where else could we go?" Magnus asked, as Ludwig stared at his shoes, and there was a shrug.

"I don't know. I mean, the only thing I could think of would be my brother, but he won't tell me anything. Never would. The hospital wouldn't tell me, either, I don't think."

"What about the kids you went to school with?"

Ludwig sent him a strange look then, suddenly looking a bit sad.

"I didn't really know any of them that well. I never had friends."

Oh.

A long, awkward silence, and then Magnus reached out, clapped a hand on Ludwig's back, and started walking again.

"Ah, don't worry about it," he said. "I never had any, either. I was too obnoxious, or so they said."

Ludwig's smile crept back up.

Most friends were overrated, anyway.

So Ludwig turned to Magnus as they walked back down the street, and he said, "Well. What about you? When was the first time you got called crazy?"

"I don't know," he replied, honestly. "I think it's been my whole life, because I just always grew up knowing I was nuts."

"Alright, when's the first time you can remember?"

He scrunched his brow in thought, and tried to call up memories.

"My dad, before he left. I think I was like seven or eight, he used to say I wasn't right in the head. My mom always told me he was wrong, but I always knew better."

"Where's your mom?"

"She died three years ago."

"What about your dad?"

Magnus paused for a second in thought, and then said, "I don't know. I haven't seen him since he left. I don't know where's he at."

Ludwig looked over at him, and lifted his brow.

"Why don't we look for him and see if we can find him?"

Ha.

"Well," Magnus said, with a low voice, "I don't think we're gonna walk all the way up to Denmark."

Ludwig looked at him, quite seriously, and said, "Why not?"

Well, when Ludwig said it like _that_...

Magnus straightened up then, tucked his hands in his pockets, and scoffed.

Why not?

"Yeah," he finally said, "Why not? Ah, why the hell not?"

He reached out, this time resting his hand on the back of Ludwig's arm, and Ludwig looked over at him shortly after, saying, "You sure do like to touch a lot."

"Sorry," he said, although he wasn't. "Guess I've always been that way. Does it bother you?"

A pause, and then, "No. Not really. You remind me of my brother."

And that must have been a good thing, because Ludwig let him walk there with his hand still above his elbow and made no move to brush him off.

"Wanna take the bus back up?"

"Nah," Ludwig was quick to respond. "Feels nice to be able to walk for a while. My brother keeps me cooped up inside so much."

Possessive, huh? Or maybe Ludwig was just that crazy.

"Well, let's walk, then."

That was that, apparently, and they walked until darkness fell.

That night, they crashed in a cheap motel, and although they both were interested in getting to know the other a little better, they went out like lights in exhaustion and slept until it was time to check out.

They took a little more action that next day, and remembered that going on a long journey meant having certain items, and they pooled together their money to buy backpacks and fill them up with necessities. Razors and toothbrushes, little bathroom supplies. Water bottles.

They bought a map, and scribbled a line up through Germany and into Denmark.

A long trip, but not a boring one.

Magnus was jittery and restless, and was excited to start out.

He felt like a little kid again.

Adventure.

They slept wherever was the cheapest, and sometimes they just slept wherever they stopped walking.

The third night, outside the city, they walked along a winding road until they had found an appealing patch of trees and undergrowth to huddle beneath.

Magnus, as shameless in adulthood as he had been in childhood, was quick to grab Ludwig around the chest and yank him in, under the excuse that it was freezing.

Yeah. That was why.

As with everything else, Ludwig was patient and humored him.

The weather _was _getting colder, though, and some nights were just too damn freezing to be outside, so they scrounged up money for a cheap motel.

A surreal, if not pleasant, experience.

In the nights, they squeezed together in a small bed, trying to fit two pairs of long legs into limited space, they put their hands behind their heads and chatted until they fell asleep, and Magnus slept so much better in these shitty hotels than he had in the psych ward.

Catching up on rest he had lost.

Hard not to rest well, with someone beside of him.

In the mornings, they woke up with sighs, arms tossed over their heads as the sun broke through the window, they sat up, shared looks, and Magnus always enjoyed the sight of Ludwig's hair sticking up to the ceiling in every which direction, pale and docile as consciousness crept back in.

Ludwig was pretty. He had been right about that.

There wasn't anything quite like reaching out a heavy hand and plopping it on the top of Ludwig's messy head, and when Ludwig looked over at him sleepily, happiness was the feeling in his chest.

When they finally got up, sometimes later rather than earlier, they found breakfast, downed terrible hotel coffee like water, shaved, and Magnus always made a point of holding the door open for Ludwig, because the high brow of flattered contentment on Ludwig's face was quite worth it.

Stepping outside was like stepping into a different world every day.

Magnus found himself starting life all over again every morning.

No job? No house? No car?

No problem.

Winging it.

It was the happiest he had been in a long time, wandering down long, desolate roads with a new friend, making small talk and bumping into each other every so often just because, not being alone and having someone who didn't look at him like he was a fuckin' whacko.

Not knowing quite what the day would bring.

Not knowing where they would sleep until they got there.

As they walked, Ludwig asked once, "What are we gonna do if we actually find our sanity, huh?"

Erhm—!

"I dunno!" Magnus looked over, and raised a finger to poke it in Ludwig's temple. "Guess we'll try to shove it back in or something."

"You're crazy," was Ludwig's dry response.

"Thanks!"

Ludwig shook his head, but still smiled.

Day after day, they got farther and farther, and even though his feet were sore, Magnus was willing to go ever farther.

They drew nearer to where they had boarded the bus in the first place, and, after nine days, something interesting finally happened.

Started very calmly.

They spent the night in a dingy hotel because the sky had been grey and overcast with the threat of snow, the bed creaked too much, and Ludwig had spent hours tossing and turning.

Ludwig woke up that morning in an odd mood, and was quiet for hours on end, sending Magnus strange looks out of the corner of his eye.

Magnus wasn't exactly sure what had shifted. Maybe being cramped into that tiny bed and kicking each other all night long had irritated Ludwig.

Maybe he hadn't slept well.

All Magnus knew was that he had woken up much earlier than he usually did, tossed his arms over his head like always, and when he flipped over to gawk at Ludwig, Ludwig was already awake and sitting up on the bed and glancing down at him in short intervals.

Silence.

"Morning."

Ludwig didn't respond, and sat there with knees up to his chest, glowering away at Magnus until he finally got up to trudge over to the rickety little table in the corner in an effort to put some space between them.

Nice try.

Magnus rolled out of bed and followed him, sat down, and finally tried to talk to sulky Ludwig a little, asking, "You hungry? I can make breakfast. Kind of."

Ludwig just stared at him, and then gave a thick, noncommittal, "Hm."

Magnus sat there for a second, scooted his chair a little closer, and put his arm on the table, settling his chin on his fist.

Ludwig narrowed his eyes into slits, and tottered his chair away.

Well. Looked like there was a newcomer in town.

He'd met one. Apparently there were more.

Excellent—'bout time he met someone as interesting as _he _was.

As he had with that Alfred guy, Magnus leaned forward and tried to get a good look at this one.

Quiet and obviously a moper, he kept his brow low and lips pursed, and seemed a little suspicious of Magnus being so close to him. As Alfred had run a hand constantly through his own hair, this guy kept on reaching up and scratching irritably at the bridge of his nose in apparent agitation.

"Or what about coffee?" he tried, and Ludwig shifted a little, sending him a glance that was bordering very close on being distasteful.

Magnus was hardly distressed.

Kinda liked trying to figure out who Ludwig was at any given time, and he kinda liked trying to get to know each one.

He reached out, touching Ludwig's hair as he often did in the mornings, and his hand was promptly swatted away for the first time.

When Ludwig looked at him from under a low brow, he said, sternly, "How d'I know you again?"

His voice was the same pitch as Ludwig's was, but enunciation had changed. Sloppier speech.

Magnus just smiled at this suddenly sully Ludwig, and tried to reach out to him again.

"We're friends, remember?"

Ludwig stared at him a bit morosely, and then gave a 'hmph' and crossed his arms.

"I'm Magnus. Who are you?"

No answer.

His fingers brushed Ludwig's hair, and Ludwig kept swatting him away. Even though Ludwig could have really hurt him if he had half a mind to, he didn't lift his hand, apparently moody but gentle, and just glared at him.

Cute.

"Ludwig? Come on, Ludwig, I just wanna—"

When Ludwig did speak again, he snapped, "Stop callin' me that, ya weirdo."

Magnus smiled, and reached out yet again, to be slapped away yet again. "Well! You won't tell me your name, so what am I supposed to call you?"

Jeez—so far, every single one of Ludwig's personalities had pointed out how weird _he _was.

Talk about pot and kettle.

Ludwig was weirder than he was.

He kept on being himself, and put his hand back out no matter how many times it was shoved away.

"If ya keep touching me," came the rumbling mutter, "I'll break yer fingers."

Sure.

All talk.

"Tell me your name, then!" Magnus said, as he reached out for the thousandth time, and this time Ludwig snatched up, grabbed his hand in a firm grip, and sent him a glare that was suddenly bordering on being a damn laser.

If looks could kill, Magnus was pretty sure he'd be six feet under somewhere.

No doubt Ludwig was lamenting the fact that Magnus was still very much alive, and finally he crinkled his nose, let go of Magnus' hand, and said, gruffly, "Berwald."

Magnus beamed, and fell back into his chair triumphantly.

"That's more like it!"

Ludwig crinkled his nose and turned his head away, resting his chin in his palm and he stared holes into the wall.

He didn't say a word after that, no matter how hard Magnus tried to irritate him.

The first guy had been fun, yeah, but Magnus wasn't quite as fond of this second one, so he slunk in ever closer, despite the burning looks that Berwald dude kept sending him, and he tried to get Ludwig back.

At least Ludwig liked him.

Somehow, after a tiny battle of hand-swatting, Magnus managed to push forward enough to corner Ludwig and rest his hand on Ludwig's neck.

It took a while of prodding and coddling, a little glaring here and there, but eventually, as he ran a thumb over the back of Ludwig's neck, the motions he made seemed to break through.

A shallow sigh, the same that Ludwig gave when he woke up in the morning, and then a short shake of his head.

Ludwig looked over at him, and Magnus could see in his half-smile that he was Ludwig again.

A long silence, as Ludwig looked around, and it was obvious that he was completely unaware of how he had wound up here at the table. He furrowed his brow and lowered his eyes in thought.

Magnus quickly distracted him from his confusion by leaning forward to kiss his cheek, because seeing Ludwig look like that was pretty disheartening.

Ludwig's eyes settled upon him, Magnus' hand still on the back of his neck, and the strange smile turned into a real one as he glanced towards the rising sun.

"You're up early."

Magnus smiled, and said, "Guess you're rubbin' off on me."

Ludwig was very much Ludwig when he cracked a self-conscious smile and turned his eyes to the table below, and Magnus felt his chest puff out in pride, in his ability to be able to get Ludwig back. Couldn't shake his beam, and he ran his hand up the back of Ludwig's neck and into his hair.

Ludwig seemed content to let him do as he would.

Ah, hell, he was sure then that he loved this man.

Ludwig might have been a psycho to some people, but Magnus saw him as little less than perfect.

Crazy was better.

The morning went by too fast, and they set out again.

The day felt like every one before it, but this time, as they passed a stretch of payphones in a small city, Ludwig hung back a little and looked at them.

Magnus glanced back in time to see him wandering over to one, digging in his pocket for change.

What now?

He didn't like distractions, especially ones that took attention off of him and onto something else.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and Ludwig sent him a quick lift of his head.

"I'm just gonna call my brother, so he'll know I'm alright. He's probably stopped by to check on me. He knows by now that I'm not there. I should let him know where I am."

Irritation.

This damn brother was starting to be a pain in his ass.

Maybe Ludwig not remembering waking up that morning had rattled him a little, and he wanted to speak to his brother for reassurance.

So Magnus stood there, and watched Ludwig punching in numbers.

Ludwig was smiling at first, when the call was answered, but he barely got past the first 'hello' before his face started steadily falling, and it didn't stop from there.

Even from where he stood, Magnus could hear Ludwig's brother screeching.

'The fuck have you been?' no doubt.

Minutes that felt like hours, as Ludwig whispered and shuffled under the voice on the other side of the phone, and Magnus could feel his stomach squirming.

Somehow, he could already sense that Ludwig was backing down for the second time.

When Ludwig set the phone down again, there was a long hesitation, and then a look of resignation.

Magnus didn't want him to say it.

They had only been wandering for hardly two weeks. He had wanted to make it years.

He reached down, grabbed Ludwig's hand, and tried to tug him onward so that Ludwig wouldn't have time to say anything.

No go.

As he had once before, Ludwig stood strong and didn't budge.

Magnus looked back again, and could already feel his chest tightening.

"Come on. We've still got a long way to go."

"I can't," Ludwig suddenly said. "I have to go back. Roderich and Gilbert want me to try some new meds."

Magnus stood still for a second, and then asked, a bit curiously, "Who are they? Are they in your head, too?"

Ludwig threw back his head, and laughed.

"I hope not! 'Cause then I really _am _crazy! Gilbert's my brother. Roderich's kinda like my guardian, I guess. He's not my dad, but he raised me."

"Oh."

Automatically, he decided he didn't like Roderich and Gilbert.

"I don't think you need medicine," he said, irritably. "I like you the way you are."

Fuckin' Christ, hadn't they had this conversation already?

Or maybe he had had that conversation with Alfred.

Didn't matter; he didn't want Ludwig to leave.

"I promised them, though. I owe it to them." Ludwig lowered his chin a little in either guilt or submission, and added, gently, "I still wanna go with you, you know. But, I should go home first. Say! Why don't you come with me? Maybe we can find some medicine for you, too. You can stay with me, and then we can start off again when I'm alright."

Medicine. That's what it was always about.

His entire life, everyone had told him he needed medicine. Long days, spent in corners as his mother whispered with teachers and doctors and lawyers in hushed tones. So many nights listening to her crying when she thought he was gone. Every time she had looked at him and said, 'They want me to drug you, but there's nothing wrong you, there's not.'

There _had_ been something wrong with him, he knew that now, but she had loved him all the same. Why couldn't Ludwig's brother, and why couldn't Ludwig love him as he was?

Why did medication always seem to come up in conversation?

The anger came up in a flash, like it always did. And, like always, he did and said things he didn't mean to.

"So _take _it then!" he shrieked, as he reached out and punched the newspaper stand beside of him, shattering the glass with his fist. "Just go and take their fuckin' pills, and when they've got ya locked up in some padded room or you're so drugged that you can't even walk, don't wonder how ya got there, 'cause I told ya all along not to take any of that shit! I don't get you! You don't look stupid, so why are you actin' that way?"

Ludwig didn't say a word, but Magnus was pretty sure that something dark had shifted across his face.

The shatter of the glass had flipped something, maybe.

Too angry to dwell much on it, Magnus kicked the stand over, papers fell into the street, people stopped walking and started looking at them, and Magnus kicked the fallen stand over and over again just because he could.

He was crazy, alright.

Always had been, but at least he knew better than to let them turn him into a phantom.

Didn't Ludwig get it?

"Go and take it, and see what I care! I went back and got'cha because I thought you were smart enough to know better, but I guess not! Go on, then! Why are you still standin' here, huh? You said you wanted to go, so go! I don't need you, I'll go by myself. But don't come lookin' for me when you figure out that you've fucked up! Everything that was ever good about ya will be gone the first time you swallow it!"

His hand hurt.

"You're _stupid_! You're really stupid! Go on, get outta here! Go home to your brother!"

When his rampage was over, the newspaper stand was strewn all over the sidewalk, his hand was bleeding, people were staring, and broken glass crunched under his boots.

If more objects had been in reach, he would have broken them, too.

The silence seemed unbearable, even in the bustling street.

The shadow on Ludwig's face was out for all to see.

Magnus came down from his cloud of rage just in time to catch glimpse of that frightening expression.

Ludwig sent him an uncharacteristically foul look, brow so low that it forced his eyes to a squint, and this time when he spoke, his voice had gotten lower somehow rather than higher.

Hardly more than a dangerous rumble.

"You're a real son of a bitch, you know? The hell's the matter with ya, huh? You're the stupid one, actin' like a fuckin' kid!"

Maybe he had hurt Ludwig's feelings, somewhere in there.

He felt so tired, suddenly.

The anger was gone only to be replaced with regret.

Shouldn't'a called Ludwig stupid. He hadn't meant to say that.

It was Magnus' job to pitch fits, but Ludwig suddenly snarled and kicked the fallen stand just as Magnus had, he started screaming, and Magnus knew right off that Ludwig was gone.

"Who do you think you are? You're nobody to me! I was never asking ya what you _thought_! I don't need you tellin' me what I can and can't do, and I never asked you for your goddamn opinion, anyway! You—!"

Ludwig trailed off into incomprehensible sputters, too angry to form words, and Magnus could only stand there and stare at him as he kicked the metal again.

Not Ludwig.

Not Alfred. Probably not Berwald, either.

Ludwig was endlessly patient, Alfred was friendly, Berwald was gentle, and this man looked ready to punch him in the face any second now.

Unpredictable, and maybe a little violent.

Actually, it was six seconds later, to be exact, that Ludwig jumped over the stand, pulled back his fist, and punched Magnus square in the face.

Hard.

Ludwig had probably been aiming for his eye, but his fist was so damn big that it took out his nose, too.

What a fuckin' punch!

Magnus fell backwards under the blow, head spinning, and when he came back to his senses, he was sitting in the street, hand holding his nose, and staring at Ludwig's back as he stalked towards a bus stop.

He was too stunned then to actually get up, even though he knew he should have, because surely someone had called the cops already.

A second later, Ludwig got on the bus, stomping angrily, and Magnus was left behind in the street.

It wasn't the punch that had him dazed.

Ludwig was gone.

The only person since his mother had died that had paid any attention to him.

Rejection? Didn't take that well. Giving up? Nope. Taking a hint? Absolutely not.

And Ludwig or whoever might have meant that punch as a 'never talk to me again', but Magnus still straightened up, set his shoulders, and took a breath.

Stubborn.

After a while, he found himself walking again, wiping blood from his nose as he stalked down the street.

Like the day he had left the institution, his feet seemed to take him back in the same direction he had come from, and straight towards Ludwig.


End file.
